Crime of the Century: A Greater Evil
by Strawberryladybug
Summary: Gru's transition from bachelor-supervillain to devoted patriarch/semi-supervillain is going well! However, Gru becomes increasingly disturbed and protective of his girls as dark details of their former caregiver begin surfacing. Do Miss Hattie's crimes stop at her personal agenda, or could larger forces of villainy be at work within the less-than-homey orphanage?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, there! I was bored and hyped up from watching Despicable Me - one of the most adorable movies out there. So without further ado, I present a guilty pleasure of mine- a fanfic based on the characters. Not sure how this story will play out, I'm just having fun with it. (It's also my first 'published' fanfic)**

**This story takes place after the movie, when Gru and the girls have settled into their new life as a family. Gru is both enjoying his new role as a father, but with it comes many new elements to his life that he has never experienced before as a bachelor supervillain. Gru has not had much time (or mind) to ask the girls about their former life, but becomes increasingly disturbed as new events begin uncovering hidden memories...and dark secrets of their former caregiver.**

**Rated T just in case, for thematic elements.**

Sarah managed not roll her eyes as a familiar customer approached the counter; a suit-and-tie man, who took every opportunity to flirt outrageously with the coffee shop girls. Hackneyed smirk in place, the incorrigible Dr. Amadeus Drekk ran a hand through his peppered hair, and leaned into the counter. "How is my favorite girl doing this morning?" the man drawled. She felt his eyes stay on her as she kept her head down, laboriously scrubbing the register. She would meet his gaze when she was done, no matter how much she hated to. Speaking lightly, she attempted to steer the conversation.

"THIS girl is waiting for her customer to tell her what flavor shot he wants in his coffee... you got coconut yesterday; right? how was it?"

"It was...different. But I'm willing to try anything at least once...especially if _you_ offer it to me..." he added, his tone sounding more suggestive than the barista cared.

_ Ick..._

"I know I promised I'd try Praline today but I miss my vanilla...what should I do about that, sweets?"

_' Sweets'?! You shouldn't ignore that, just say something; tell him you don't like to be called that-_ "...Why not try them together? Vanilla is versatile, it blends nicely with pretty much anything." _IDIOT! why don't you stick up for yourself?_

"That's what I like about my coffee girls; always mixing it up for a fresh day. But you know what I could really get a kick out of? Look here." Drekk bent to rest both elbows onto the counter; Sarah stepped back slowly, running her cleaning rag over the surface behind her with one hand. She had a feeling he was going to drop something on her; but there she was; playing into his ridiculous game again. "I could really go for a little sugar...right here." he tapped his finger on his lips, and silently pointed back at her, winking mischievously.

Sarah stared back at him; her face and neck growing hot as he never looked away. How the heck should she respond to that? She played dumb before; ignoring his and other advances by sticking to the innocent version of their innuendos...but her shocked pause was too long for her to feign naivety here. it made her angry, embarrassed, shy. Drekk grinned predatorily. "What's the matter, never been kissed before?"

"-That's none of your-Weren't you going to order a coffee, sir?"

"Don't tell me you haven't… what a sorry joke that would be!"

"I'm not interested in sharing personal information with you sir, and it's not in your right to ask for it either."

"Well shucks for me, I was going to ask for a_ french special_…"

_...The heck? That doesn't even make sense._ Sarah glared at him, fully convinced of his insanity.  
"I have work to do, Mr. Drekk - just give me your coffee order and let me do my job."

"But I am, see? You're working over there, like the good girl, and I'm over here, waiting for service-"

**(A few minutes earlier)**

Margo, Edith and Agnes walked into the coffeeshop with Gru, who was looking slightly worse for the wear. Holiday vacation was just beginning, and all three girls had spent barely any time in bed that first night. Gru cringed inwardly as he remembered the mess he had walked into early that morning- apparently there had been a pillow fight, and a pair of minions in charge of guarding their bedroom (a ceremonial position) had not done much to stop the fluffy carnage. However, all was forgiven with the exception that the three girls clean their room before breakfast.

"_They should not have sweets at all today_…" Gru thought, trying not to lose the conviction in his mind. "_But they couldn't help being excited. Ah well.."_

Now they were in the shop, where Gru had promised earlier to get them a treat. Leading them to a table, Gru and the three girls sat down - Margo and Edith on one side, Gru and Agnes on the other. Edith and Agnes automatically began drooling over the photos of specials. Agnes ogled over a particularly large feature. "Oooh, look at THAT one, it has oreos on top!"

"That is ice-cream, not a drink." Gru stated gruffly.

"I know! I'm just...lookin'."

Margo looked over at the counter, where a lone woman was cleaning the cash register. She looked almost familiar to the young girl, who scrunched her nose in an attempt to remember. Her thoughts continued to search memories when a new customer stalked through the door, and Margo watched as a strained conversation unfolded. Margo watched the counter lady squirm uncomfortably under the man's scrutiny, and sympathized with her as he leaned up as close as possible to the counters, speaking in a low voice which, to Margo, signified utmost creepiness. She could just barely hear the resulting conversation. She recognized the girl's stance - she stood apart from the customer, a guarded look on her face, attempting to appear hospitable.

Being older than her two sisters, Margo knew a little more about the world - though completely innocent of the knowledge of adult motives, she had been forced to traipse the streets with her Girl Scout cookies long enough to know when a stranger was bad news. Margo was starting to feel just as timid and embarrassed as the barista, when the customer began making a kissing motion in the poor lady's direction. The barista's strained smile was gone.

"Dad…" Margo said, instinctively - a little too urgently.

"- I said a_ small-size_ beverage, and that's fin- what is it, Margo?" Gru looked up from his seat across from Margo and Edith, one authoritative finger in mid-wave.

"That guy is bothering the lady over there. You have to save her." Margo flushed slightly at her own words, knowing how melodramatic they sounded.

"What?" Gru frowned, and looked back at the man, who was now pacing with the girl's movements, speaking in a low tone that didn't carry across the room.

"She doesn't like it, he won't stop. You have to save her!" _What is this, a disney movie?_

"I see…" Gru said grimly, after observing for a moment. "Fine...I'll get our orders now too. Sit like a lady, Agnes!" Gru's warning finger was the last to leave the table.

"What's going on, Margo?" Edith leaned into her sister, peering as their father, the world's greatest supervillain, slunk toward the checkout counter.

"Just watch."


	2. Chapter 2

"Come on, honey, I think you'd really enjoy a little peck from yours truly. Share a little coffee breath in the morning, why no-"

"Are you feenished harrassing thees gurl, or do I need to set my freeze ray to frostbite to get my latte today?"

Both Drekk and Sarah jumped at the interruption - a tall, darkly dressed man with a large nose and a disgruntled expression had moved up behind Drekk. He loomed over the slighter man, who allowed himself one more peer at the barista before slowly turning on the spot

"We're all getting lattes, friend..and since I'm first in line-"

"You've had plenty of time to order, and since your second request of this young woman is not on the menu, I suggest paying up and getting out of my way. _Friend_." Gru added with a dangrous growl.

Drekk might have had the guts to retort, if the tall man wasn't holding the point of said firearm directly at his nose.

"I get it, Snarky. hold your weapon of mass destruction." he mumbled, tossing a fiver onto the counter. "Keep the change, honey. I'll take a medium to go instead. _Hasta Luego, Chiquita_."

Drekk smoothly reached for a to-go cup from the counter and stalked off, stopping only to fill it with black coffee from the self-serve coffeepots.

Sarah stood awkwardly, but realization that her hero was waiting to order brought her back to reality.

"Uh...thank you, for that."

"'ees no problem."

Sarah stared as the freeze ray compacted itself into a smaller form, which her rescuer tucked back into his coat without another word. "Uh, what can I get for you today?" she said more brightly, her mortification slowly replaced by relief.

"I weel have a triple espresso latte...no foam. And..."he paused, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Three...small..hot cocoas..with extra whipped cream...and the candy cane straws. please."

Sarah allowed herself to grin genuinely at her customer. "Of course, sir. Anything else?"

"WAIT!" a very young-sounding voice trilled from somewhere near the floor. The tall man turned to see a very tiny girl with a black pigtail and huge, green eyes with a puppylike expression. She was tugging on his jacket expectantly. "Don't forget to ask about the candy sprinkles - I like the blue ones!" The man let out a theatrical groan.

"Aaaaah, why are you alvays so picky? Blue sprinkels don't taste any different from the regular kind-"

"Yes they do," the little girl retorted, frowning slightly. "They taste...bluer."

"Fine then...ah, make one of those cocoas with blue sprinkles. Please."

"Thank-yew Daddy!" the little girl shrieked, hugging his pant leg before bouncing off to the window table, where two other young girls were sitting. They were looking back at the counter, giggling and watching the barista - Sarah- who was now all smiles.

Back at the table, Gru had fairly forgotten about the incident, now fully intent on mopping up the splashes of hot liquid that Edith and Agnes were now making from their mugs.

"Edith...haven't we seen that lady before?" Margo said, ignoring her hot cocoa for the moment.

"Beats me" her sister shrugged, as she swooped the entire whipped cream mountain off her cup with a spoon and stuffed it in her mouth gleefully. "But...she reminds me of that girl who yelled at Miss Hattie once. It was a loong time ago, but I remember it cuz' NO ONE yells at Miss Hattie."

"Except Daddy!" Agnes chimed in, as she lapped the blue sprinkles off the top of her drink.

"What? I did not yell at Miss Hattie.." Gru defended absentmindedly, eyeing the little blue specks that were threatening to fall from Agnes' chin to her lap. Deftly wiping them off with a napkin, he continued. "I only warned her...sternly...that if she interfered with my devious plan to raise my children under my own rules and disciplinary action, that I would have her launched in a rocket to mars."

"Yea but you were LOUD." Margo added amusingly.

"But don'cha think it is her? It looks like her…" Edith insisted, unable to look away from the barista, who was working a line of customers now.

"Who is she supposed to be?" Gru narrowed his eyes, leaning back to peer at the barista whom he had just helped.

Margo tweaked her glasses and began to explain. "About 4 years ago, a new girl came to Miss Hattie's orphanage. She was older - 17 or somewhere. Miss Hattie didn't want to take her in, because she was almost an adult and might rat her out for stuff she does to us kids. But the police told her she HAD to, because she was still underage. Miss Hattie hated her, because all of us really liked her, and did everything she asked -she was really nice. Miss Hattie tried to hide stuff from her, too- pretended to be real 'friendly', and cover up stuff like the Box of Shame-"

"-The box of _what-?"_

"-But all of the kids liked Sarah, and told her all about Miss Hattie." Edith cut in excitedly. She got real mad one day, she found out that Miss Hattie put Margo in the 'Box of Shame' _all night _for forgetting to wipe her shoes on the mat, and Sarah suddenly EXPLODED! She screamed at Miss Hattie for a long time, told her she was going to tell the police about everything! And boy, did Miss Hattie get angry about that-"

"-Sarah was trying to reach the phone, but Miss Hattie tried to stop her. But then…" Margo paused in her interruption, looking embarrassed.

"Margo threw up in the box." Edith finished matter-of-factly. "So Sarah picked her up, and carried her upstairs to our bedroom. She promised she would help all of us, make Miss Hattie behave or send her to jail. She said she was going to be right back, and went downstairs to get the police...but she didn't come back upstairs. And when we went down to check, Miss Hattie just said that Sarah "ran away from us brats" and didn't like us anymore, and would never come back. I didn't believe her."

"But she DIDN'T come back." Margo sighed unhappily.

"I think Miss Hattie _murdered_ her.." Edith whispered, a little too lustily. Agnes looked up from her mangled tower of whipped cream, and patted Edith's outstretched hand with her own sticky paw.

Gru sat, a little open-mouthed. _The way they talk about the orphanage...it sounds like it's being run by the most dastardly supervillain alive. Perhaps Miss Hattie is more than an orphanage director_…"So...you think that woman, over there, is your friend?" He asked, pointing incredulously in the barista's direction.

"I guess not. If the real one got _murdered_ by-"

"Stop saying that, Edith!" Margo hissed, looking aghast. "I just...thought she looked familiar. But she doesn't look the same…"

"But she could be..?"

Margo looked from the counter lady, back to Gru. "I guess not…" Margo said finally, a little timidly. No longer interested in drinking her hot cocoa, she leaned over the table and rested her chin on her elbow, watching the cars drive by outside the cafe window.

"You miss this… Sarah, person?"

"I just wish I knew what happened. . I….I wish I could remember exactly what she looked like. She was kind of my friend. And kind of like a big sister. And a- a mom, sorta. She took care of everybody…" Margo said wistfully.

Gru wasn't sure what to say next. His own mother had only recently begun treating him like a son - it was still difficult to put the word "mother" in a positive context. This was making for a very awkward and unsettling outing. He looked at his two daughters across the table - Margo was twirling her spoon again, the whipped cream dissolving into the cooling liquid, and Edith was licking the inside of her mug, sipped dry and completely sticky, still gazing unabashedly at the barista .

"You know, girls" Gru finally decided that this outing had passed it's enjoyment for everyone. "I think we should go look for a Christmas present for the minions. Kevin mentioned something about the giant sno-globe in Downtown…"

He felt guilty for changing the subject, but Gru was at a loss at what to do. Margo and Anges were obviously affected by that incident, but what could be done about it now? At least they were safe from that overblown teapot, Miss Hattie...but what else had occurred in the years they had spent in her care? And what in the name of Dr. Nefario's checkered pants could he do about it, besides taking over parenthood? _Evil Plan already accomplished, _he thought to himself. _Sort of...In progress. I wonder if Dr. Nefario has any gadgets that can help me read their minds..._

**Author's Note: In case anyone is wondering why Gru isn't calling the police RIGHT NOW against Miss Hattie for the Box of Shame - since the movie itself is completely lacking in any police/law enforcement representations, I think it's safe for them to continue their absence in this story, as it would also be unlikely for a villain with so many resources at his fingertips to resort to such a 'lame' form of vengance. :D**

** Also, it would seem by the movie that while Gru's sense of retaliation is strong, he *has* grown up in a world where being a villain is more of an occupation, rather than a crime. Through this story, I want to explore the idea of him transitioning somewhat from that perspective, as he gets closer with his family, and realizes that there are even more sinister villains out there than Vector - and not in an admirable way. **


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah had never felt so grateful to anyone in her life. A man whom she could have sworn was wanted for SOME sort of crime (too-big nose?) had just gallantly shook off the most irritating customer of her shift. Albeit, he gave barely a glance at her, but seemed to enjoy stepping in. She would have to thank him someday. Sarah watched as he sidled back to a booth, where three small girls wriggled with delight at the approach of their treats. She couldn't make out their faces from here- her glasses were still broken anyway. The day grew steadily busier, and the small group had left without her notice. Sarah was disappointed she hadn't gotten to say hello, let alone another 'thank you'.

Finally, 8 o' clock struck and the girl was ready to leave work. 'How lucky you are to have the day shift' Sarah thought to herself as she took her paycheck from her employer's hands. She exchanged goodbyes with the replacing coworker, then pulled her thin coat around her shoulders as she stepped outside in the slushy snow.

Maybe not so lucky...if you worked the night shift, you wouldn't have to sleep in this cold so often… Sarah tried not to remember what she would come home to. What was the weather forecast today? A solid 25 degrees overnight, peeling into a slightly warmer 30 by noon the next day. I hate my days off… Sarah needled her way through the streets, keeping in the center of the pack, until she came to a small shop with the words "CASH & CARRY - WE TAKE CHECKS FOR $$". One of the finer dumps of a convenience store on this block, Sarah mused as she pushed the cracked door open and nearly slid on the muddy slush that was tracked in by other customers.

"Whatcha lookin' for today, missy?" A heavyset man in a dirty green polo shirt said as she walked in. His unshaven face broke into a friendly grin as she waved in return. "Run out of batteries yet?"

"No...I'm all set on those - thanks though Paul. I just need a check cashed...and I was wondering, where I can get a mini-heater? You know, a plug-in one? Got something like that?" Sarah swept through the first two aisles, looking for trinkets. "And do you have any more of those hand-warmer packets?"

"How long you plan on living like this, girl?" Paul replied, his voice heavy with concern.

"...Just let me know when you get more."

The man sighed, as he rung out the girl's purchases - a series of bland, but wholesome foodstuffs, a large roll of duct tape, a box of lightbulbs, a car adapter plug, and a windshield cover.

"It's gonna get bad tonight, you know. They say we might get ice- unusual for mid-town."

"Lucky I've got good insulation."

"You know there's room in the back, if you want."

"I've been fine for the last year, Paul, and besides, your brother creeps me out."

"Have it your way...just be safe."

Sarah pushed out of the door, feeling rich but nervous with the 280 dollars stuffed in her breast pocket. With all the christmas lights beaming along with the traffic and shop windows, the atmosphere was almost warm. She wished she didn't live so far away from those lights…

She began heading down a darker street, looking around both ways and peering around nervously. She twisted on a small keychain flashlight, and felt for the pepper spray in her side pocket, as she ventured further down the street. Thank God this neighborhood had more inhabitants this season - more television sets cast their pale light in her path, as she headed down the streets and closer to the abandoned lot. Glancing quickly at the fence which surrounded the area, she slunk towards the gate and deftly turned the padlock and chain that kept it closed. The new metal shone in contrast with the rustier fence, as the snow melted from the area Sarah had picked up. She had bought the lock the first day of her acquisition of this lot… regardless of her less than legal ownership of the space.

Sarah approached the large, broken-down fifteen-passenger van, feeling skittish as she got closer, but the darkness of night crushing closer. She fumbled anxiously with the door key, then launched herself inside, locking the door behind her. Sarah allowed herself a gasp of mortal relief. She made it home safe... again! She reached out for a small wire, feeling along it until a switch rested in her fingers. She pushed it, and a small desk lamp bloomed with light, casting it across the inside of the excavated van. All of the back seats had been taken out, except one close to the trunk door. Windshield covers, dark fabrics, and roll upon roll of duct tape covered the windows, insulating them and keeping them pitch black to any passerby's curious eyes. Three mismatched couch cushions were lined up against one side of the van, covered with multiple blankets. One was a deep green horse blanket - a lucky score, in Sarah's opinion. It had saved her from frostbite last winter. The other blankets were flannel, and furry, while several other blankets had been basted together, to make a makeshift sleeping bag, which Sarah lovingly referred to as her Polar Bear Skin. All of these blankets were settled in a nest-like shape, and a large stuffed racoon lay at the end of it - her pillow. Beside the nest, sat a pair of wooden stools - one served as a bedside desk, the other as a shelf for trinkets. Between the two stools were several stacks of library books. At the other end, there were four large plastic boxes, containing Sarah's clothes and other belongings. A very small coffeetable stood on the other side of the boxes, and on one end stood a mini-fridge. It was not plugged in, as the van was quite cold. And there were so precious few adapter openings…

A small shelf contained a few meager dishes, nonperishable food, and a camping stove, which Sarah had miraculously gotten a hold of from someone's garbage. She managed to find many things like that - a little pot to cook with, etc. She even had a hanging tote shelf, which she used to hold various other tools and gadgets that she might need for living.

Sarah sighed as she looked around her makeshift home. She plopped her new purchases on the tiny table, and taking out the duct tape, rolled a few strips over a small slit in the side door.. Changing into her warmest pair of pajamas - layered heavily underneath as well, and pulling on a pair of thick slippers, leaned over to turn on her mini-heater - a nearly worthless, noisy thing, that just managed to thaw out the air a bit. Sarah counted it as one of her greatest friends, though it was on it's way out. Perhaps she could find a new one tomorrow - on sale, perhaps, now that the holidays are pumping out new products. It whirred on, and Sarah finally bundled herself into bed, feeling the thick horse blanket and the fluffy, solid mass of cloth immediately mold to her form and begin absorbing heat. Living in a van was terrifying, yes. In a back lot, far away from the safe bustle of town, and the only barrier from the wind is a brick house that the van is cozied up to along one side. The building and back lot belonged to a decrepit old man, who was rarely seen outside of his house. Over the past several years, people had taken to dumping their trash in the lot, which apparently didn't bother the old man, who never stepped out to view the vertable junkyard that was now Sarah's living quarters. Sarah hoped, a little guiltily, that she would be in better circumstances before the old guy kicked the bucket.

Sarah left the lamp on its lowest setting, and turned on the battery-powered radio that was her only working entertainment. She found the light rock station, where a familiar talk show host's comforting voice seemed to warm the air, make it less threatening. If she closed her eyes, it was almost like a real home… Sarah fell asleep to the sound of a popular love song, her hands clutching the blankets in quiet desperation.

_How long could she possibly live like this_?


End file.
